Perfected
by Riley Dolenz
Summary: A man in blue wakes up in a beautiful yet deadly world. How did he get here? Can he get out? Is someone behind his sudden appearance? Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Skaparen watched as the remainder of the sun's light dissolve into darkness. Another long night. But he wasn't afraid. He knew the habits of the creature of the night. He knew he was safe in his abode. A temporary shelter of cobblestone with a wooden door, it sufficed as a stop for his journey.

But it wasn't to be said he wasn't on the guard. So when his door suddenly bursted opened behind his back, Skaparen jumped from his seat and in a swift move swung his sparkling sword, striking the intruder.

The being dropped to the floor. Skaparen lifted his sword for another attack, then paused in shock for a moment. The prone creature, although wearing the same attire as the mindless monsters that wander in the dark, was anything but. It was human. A man. One word went through Skaparen's mind.

"Herobrine." He seethed.

Skaparen brought his sword down to deliver the final blow to his long time rival, but was stopped again from another, even greater shock.

The man recovered enough to look up at his assailant. Skarparen saw the flash of wide blue eyes, not glowing white eyes, before they were hidden beneath an arm. It wasn't Herobrine. Than who?

Skaparen grabbed a fistful of cyan shirt and yanked the stranger upright and pressed him against the closed door. He anchored the intruder's foot with his own, diamond blade pressed hard to the man's neck. The stranger grimaced and his ragged breath shortened even more.

"Who are you?" the armed warrior demanded.

Immediately after he said it, heavy bangs vibrated the door, accompanied with vulgar growls. The intruder yelped and jumped, causing the blade to break his skin. Skaparen soon found himself having to hold up his "enemy", the man nearly fainting.

Calming down, and feeling slightly over-reactive, Skaparen withdrew his sword, led the trembling man to the opposite wall from the door, and deposited him in a corner. He sat on the floor nearby, relaxed, but weapon still in hand. Watching the stranger's wide eyes flitting around and trying to remain conscious, he began to believe this man may be no threat. His emotions were too palatable. 'What's this man's story?'

Skaparen remembered his first night here. He had a simple home, crude sword and a garden started. 'Was I this terrified my first night?' he wondered.

"What's you're name?" he asked the frightened soul.

The man shot him an astonished look, as if saying 'You want formalities while monsters are attacking us?' Skaparen waited for an answer. The man's brow furrowed in confusion, like Skaparen had asked him 'What is the capital of Argentina?'

A particularly violent bang caused the man to jump again. "Uuh, St-Steve?" he choked out.

"Steve?" repeated Skaparen. "Where did you come from?" He kept his voice conversational.

Steve held his look of confused astonishment with a heavy layer of fear while he tried to formulate a response.

"I-I d-don't know," he said. "I-I can't remember much."

"What can you remember?"

Steve thought harder. "I...I was on an island. A small grassy island. Nothing on it." Another crash on the door started him again, but it was quicker for him to compose himself. "I saw land in the distance, so I swam to it. There was nothing there either. I don't know how long it was before I got here. A couple days at least. When I got here, it was evening, and I was suddenly surrounded by...by...monsters! Where the hell am I?"

Skaparen had a silent chuckle at Steve's choice of words in the final question. 'He doesn't know hell yet.' So it begins. Others will now enter into this world. "You're in a land of wonder, and there's only one way out."

Steve blinked. "Huh?"

The onslaught on the door had ended, as it usually did, and there was an odd eerie-peaceful silence in the small bunker. Skaparen stood, stretched, and but his sword away. "You'll find out." With that, he moved to a nearby bed, laid down, and under befuddled eyes fell asleep.

The next morning, Skaparen started tearing down the shelter to carry with him for his journey. There were no Creepers or spiders nearby as far as the eye could see. This was a rather barren terrain.

As he got to the corner were Steve was, Skaparen found him actually a little worse for wear. When Steve barged into the shelter, his injuries were abundant: spider bites, sulphur burns, arrow wounds – Skaparen's sword strike didn't help either. But, given the length of the night, they should've been healed by now. Instead, he looked slightly more frail. Skaparen thought back on Steve's story: has he actually eaten since he's first arrived?

Skaparen had an inner argument with himself, and the more humane side of him won. Rummaging through is satchel, he pulled out a cooked porkchop. He put it into Steve's nearly empty satchel, took what was left of his makeshift home, and, with a bag full of enderpearls, traveled toward the receding darkness. It was a sacrifice, leaving that precious foodstuff with the newcomer. But, hearing of Steve's beginning brought back a bit of long lost mercy into Skaparen.

From now on, though, Steve was going to have to make it on his own. He will be shown no mercy in this world. Yet, if he could harness that fear, he could survive a good long time, and maybe make it out.

Skaparen was almost done with his story. This was up to Steve now.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N.: So, don't take the prolog as cannon. I posted it before I fully understood what my plot was and before I really knew my characters, but it still is the same, more or less. And I'm posting this after midnight, so I may be jumping the gun again. Anyway, please enjoy.

A faint popping noise disturbed the silence on a small grassy island. A figure stirred in a rapidly fading green distortion around him. Blue eyes blinked open. The figure pushed himself up to a kneeling position and looked around. _Where am I?_

That question was quickly followed by a torrent of others, threatening to drown his sanity. He fought back the questions with a shake of his head and forced himself to focus on the task of standing up. Once upright, he took a breath, and opened his mental door to let in one question, and made sure it stopped at one. _Where am I?_

"I'm on an island," he answered himself. The green carpeted knoll emerged from blue, crystal-clear water, water that was endless in all directions save one.

Next question. _Who am I?_ That one scared him a little. The only information he had was what he could see. He shoved it out the 'door' and let in a different one. _What now?_ "That I can answer."

The only break in the water on the horizon was a hazy outline of some kind of land. Seeing as there wasn't much he could do here and this island wasn't willing to give him anymore knowledge to combat his questions, he figured it best to go to that land. It was quite far.

Making his way into the water, he mumbled, "This is going to take a while."

The sun was directly above him when he made shore. Finding a rock to sit on, he removed his satchel and dropped it onto the grass. Then he peeled off his cyan shirt to squeeze the water out. Looking up and to his right, he stopped mid-wring. He swivelled his head to the left. He jumped up and looked behind him.

Grass. And water. "Didn't I just leave here?"

He looked back from the shore he came up on. A blurry outline of land was peeking over the horizon. It was, for sure, the one he left. And this island was no different.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and heaved a deep sigh.

_What now?_ He scowled. "Shut up."

He struggled to get his soaked shirt back on, swiped up his bag, threw it over his shoulder and neck, and trudged back into the sea.

"No point in wasting time." He went back to swimming.

_The sun's setting._

"Shut up."

_The sun's rising._

"Shut up."

_What's that?_

"Shut..." His thoughts were interrupted by sand hitting his knees and fingertips. So used to the constant motion of swimming, he had to work to get his muscles to stop and change their job to standing.

He was on a shoal. Up ahead, unmistakably, was land. And, this time, not just an island – it was generous enough to contain a whole mountain above water. Wait, there was more than a mountain. An phalanx of mountains were holding back the ocean, as far as he could see to his left and right.

"Land." It came out barely above a whisper. It sunk in deeper. Throwing his arms in the air he screamed with all the power he could muster. "Land!"

He moved through the water as if it had split by a miracle. Once on real dry land, he embraced the closest cliff face. Dirt never felt more wonderful.

He stepped back and looked up. "Let's see what we have here."

Within immediate eyesight there wasn't much to see except water and a sheer cliff. Around one side of the immediate mountain there was a more gradual slope that would permit climbing. Looking up at the nearly seventy degree slope, he knew this would be a chore in itself. Picking his way up, there was a growl from his stomach.

"Great."

_There'd better be something to eat around here, or you're in trouble._

"Shut up."

_One peak, two peak, three peak, four._

The initial mountain showed the army behind the phalanx's walls, all jagged and steep, like upside-down egg cartons. Several ridges away, a lone tree graced the crown of a crag.

He noted the locations of small flocks and herds of animals he passed. Once armed with tools he'd be back for some food. The rumble from his middle reminded him to hurry.

It was a nice tree. The setting sun sent it's shadow near the top of a nearby cliff. The weary traveler paused in contemplation. Taking a breath, he tore at it's trunk and branches until all that was left were saplings.

The man watched the remainder of the sun disappear behind the skyline. Turning behind him revealed a brilliant moon ascending from the direction of the sea, casting it's blue glow over the jagged landscape. In his short remembrance, he's never seen anything so beautiful. Filling his lungs with the cool air, a feeling of serenity washed over him.

A growl brought him back to earth.

"Okay, gotta get something to eat."

Another growl came. He paused.

"That wasn't me," he whispered.

A bone-chilling moan echoed through the ravines. Sense of serenity rapidly dissipating, he waited to hear it again.

Silence.

Biting his lower lip, he tentatively started his descent down the mountain in the direction of the stray livestock. A chittering sound came from his right. Turning his head, he jumped to his left.

_That can't be natural._

Three meters away, an arachnid larger than himself stared at him, red eyes glowing in the shadow of the cliff face. It leapt. Fangs the size of crowbars dug into his chest before he had a chance to react. Screaming in pain, he flipped the spider off of him, and ran. Once he hit the bottom of the mountain, he looked to see if he was pursued. Fortunately, the spider didn't like fast food and left off from the chase.

Rubbing his bite, an "Ouch" came from under his breath. Another moan sent a chill up his spine. There were nothing but dark at the bottom of the ravine. The moon didn't reach here. He moved in the opposite direction of the groan.

_Thwing!_

Thrown off balance, an intense pain shot through in his left arm. An arrow was lodged in his shoulder. Tearing it out, he looked up to see it's source; all blood drained from his face.

The archer was only skeletal. An energy field surround it, something sensed, not seen. Drawing back another arrow in it's bow, it aimed right for him.

He bolted.

_This isn't right!_

Jumping over a gavel pile severing the ravine's path, he stopped short. Something stood before him. Something that was just wrong.

A creature looked at him with empty eyes. A smell of sulphur radiated form it's green body. It began to hiss, glow, tremble, expand.

_That can't be good!_

Backpedaling hastily, he saw the monster explode, a shock wave knocking him onto his back.

_What's going on?_ Even in his mind the voice sounded small. Calming breaths came short and ragged. A tremor coursed through his body. It wouldn't stop.

Setting his jaw, he squeezed his eyes tight.

_Get a grip on yourself._

Nearby there was rustling with a dreadful moan. He jerked upright, all mustered courage shaken away. He couldn't move, all his power devoted to processing what he was seeing.

A creature staggered toward him at an unnatural pace. Rotting clothes identical to his own covered it's green, decaying flesh. It had the same energy field that hoovered around the skeleton.

It was nearly on top of him.

_RUN!_

Obeying, the man ran as never before. Heavy footsteps followed close behind. Two sets. Wait, the second set was his heart. A feeling of cold liquid metal poured over his body.

_You're going to die._

"NO!"

More living nightmares were everywhere above him as he ran through the maze of hollows. Some jumped, some drew weapons, some hissed.

He felt himself slowing as he came into a plain, oxygen almost depleted. Ahead there was a glow. It spread to his soul. It came from a rectangular structure in the field, tucked into the base of a hill.

_Shelter!_

Monsters were scattered all around the structure. Giving his all, he slipped through the dark army, reaching the door. Throwing it open, he pivoted around, slammed it shut, and pushed it tight against it's frame.

Cold fire ripped through his left side, stealing whatever breath he had left. His head struck the dirt floor. Through the fog of his mind, he heard a faint word:

"Herobrine."

Gazing up from the ground, he saw a glowing, bloodied sword poised above him for a lethal blow. He flinched, throwing a protective arm up.

Instead of being pierced, he found himself yanked upright by a powerful grip on the front of his shirt. Back shoved against the door, a heavy boot ground onto his own foot and a large arm pinned his torso to the door. Gasping for air, he felt the jewel blade press against his neck.

"Who are you?!" his assailant demanded.

Before the question could penetrate to his mind, the door behind him shook violently, angry growls right next to his ear. Yelping, he jumped, causing the blade to bite into his neck.

Black.

When his head cleared again, he was being held up by two arms pressing him against the door.

_Why aren't my legs working?_ _I'm trapped and my legs aren't working._ He attributed his shaking to the vibrating door. _Go away._

The weight on his chest eased up, testing to see if he could stand on his own. Catching himself before sinking down, he got his stance. He wanted to put some distance between himself and the monsters, but didn't dare move for fear of falling. Holding his left side, he stood as straight as he could. He attempted to glare at his opponent.

The warrior looked like an ancient god. A powerful body encased in radiant blue diamond suit of armor, a long black beard and penetrating small, dark eyes – eyes that studied him in return.

The sword was now down by it's owner's side. The blood on it caused it's victim's stomach to churn. He had lost way too much that night. His life was hanging on by a thread and he was feeling a little out numbered. He waited.

Gripping his upper arm, the warrior lead him to the opposite side of the hut. About twelve square meters large, the bunker had only a bed to the right of the door and a window facing west. Stationed in a corner, a forceful, yet gentle hand pushed down on his shoulder, indicating that he should sit. He complied. Sword still drawn, the soldier seated himself on the floor nearby, studying his visitor. The man wished that this diamond knight would do something about the relentless onslaught on the door. Each consecutive pound his mind would translate into another possible blow to him.

"What's you're name?"

_Pardon?_ The question sounded so casual that he wasn't sure if he heard it right. He gaped at the Warrior.

The Warrior stared back, patiently waiting for an answer.

_Crap. What _is_ my name?_ He could not avoid that question now. Concentration seemed beyond his capability, but a particularly rough blow cracking the door helped.

Jumping, the man answered, "Uuh, St-Steve?"

The Warrior raised his eyebrows. "Steve?"

_Was that wrong?_

"Where did you come from?"

_Doesn't he know we're under attack?!_ "I-I d-don't know." _Why can't you think?!_ "I-I can't remember much." _And quit your stammering!_

"What can you remember?"

Steve found his interrogator's somewhat conversational tone grating, and he didn't know what bothered him more, the zombies or the questions.

He tried to focus. "I...I was on an island. A small grassy island. Nothing on it." Another crash on the door startled him again. _Zombies definitely worse._ Taking a calming breath, he continued. "I saw land in the distance, so I swam to it. There was nothing there either. I don't know how long it was before I got here. A couple days at least..." _Wait._ _It wasn't that long. Sure felt like it though._ "When I got here, it was evening." He started to speed up. "And I was suddenly surrounded by...by...monsters! Where the _hell _am I?!"

Steve found the bitter smirk that flashed across the Warrior's face a bit unsettling.

"You're in a land of wonder," the soldier said getting up, sheathing his blade, "and there's only one way out."

Steve blinked. "Huh?"

The warrior didn't respond. Walking to his bed, he stretched out on it and quickly fell asleep.

Steve was still staring when the quiet struck him. He never noticed the monsters leaving off from their attack. The sudden silence was oddly un-nerving.

He leaned forward and rubbed his head. Way too much confusion for his comfort. With nothing better to do, he attempted to find a comfortable position and closed his eyes. A screech outside shook him. Calming, he scowled at the creature, at himself, the odd soldier nearby, and his short, bothersome life in general.


End file.
